The Winner Takes It All
by Arcane Desires
Summary: Having survived 22 other tributes, the elaborate traps of the Capitol AND each other, Cato and Clove share a brief moment of something close to intimacy before they are removed from the arena and have to face all that being joint victors entails. Just a random, brief snippet of fluff, the Clato way.


**A/N: It was coming up to the 1 year anniversary mark of when my beloved Cato (LovelyAche) introduced me to the ultimate joy that is Clato roleplay and my mind came up with a few small fic ideas to commemorate the occasion. This is one of those stories, the first and the one I simply had to post on the actual day in question.**

**To my brutal beloved Cato, I love you more than words can say and I know we've had our ups and downs, just like Clato does, but I honestly couldn't survive without you and I will never stop adoring you for being you and for giving me the love of Clato in the first place. Or for the truly wonderful year of RP'ing them that you've given me. Your vicious adoring Clove.**

**To everyone else, I hope that someone out there might enjoy this small Clato moment as much as I did when I wrote it and I may revisit this story at some point, just to add a second chapter to show a truly intimate moment between my ultimate all time OTP. But now I must go back to my other works that need finishing. XD Hope you enjoy! And yes incase anyone wonders, I totally borrowed the fic name from an ABBA song. So sue me! lol**

**Disclaimer: I do NOT own the Hunger Games, the world this fic is set in or the characters contained within. I make no money off this fic and sadly I am obviously not Suzanne Collins. **

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He towered over her, looking as dark and deadly as ever. Thick rivulets of blood trailed down his left arm and right cheek and his blue eyes were narrowed in a vicious glare. They both stood there exhausted and panting for breath.

She glared back, fingers sliding over the handle of the knife in her hand and curling tighter around it, readying herself just like she'd been taught to. He moved just as she knew he would, swift and forceful as he shoved her hard against the thick trunk of the tree behind her.

Her breath left her body in a whoosh, forced from her lungs with the power of his movement and his heavy frame pressed tightly against her much more slender one. She brought the knife up, pressing it against his ribs while a calloused hand wrapped tightly around her throat.

The both of them shook, their bodies caught in a cascade of adrenaline and bloodlust and Cato growled like the wild animal people seemed to think he was as he squeezed tighter. She gasped sharply, pressing till she knew anymore pressure would cause her razor sharp blade to just sink right into his skin and flicked her gaze down.

A fresh trickle of crimson fluid leaked out to stain his sliced top where she'd cut him and then a second later the pressure eased off a little, turned into something less harsh. His fingers slid over her neck, caressing the smooth skin before sliding into her hair and tugging at it. He fisted a handful of her hair and pulled her forward as he moved in.

His lips met hers in a harsh, bruising claim and she wound one arm up around his neck. Mimicking his actions, her fingers ran through his short blond hair as her eyes slid closed and she gripped it tightly in her own hand.

Her pulse raced wildly, blood pumping through her veins like a jet propelled rocket and making her feel light headed. Or maybe it was his harsh kiss, she couldn't quite tell. Finally the weapon slid out of her hand and her free hand brushed over his toned abs, then up to his broad chest. She settled her palm over his chest, feeling his heart beat like a runaway freight train, pounding almost in time to her own hearts rhythm.

He nipped at her lower lip, sharp and stinging and drawing a tiny hint of blood. The coppery tang of her own blood flooded her already overwhelmed senses. She surged forward, sinking her teeth into the soft flesh of his lower lip and slicing a small cut into it. The metallic taste of both their spilled blood hit her senses yet again, both welcome and yet sort of unwanted at the same time.

Still, it barely seemed to matter because he took full advantage of her parted lips to thrust his tongue into her mouth. She groaned, knuckles turning bone white as she tugged insistently at his hair and he pressed himself fully and completely against her now.

Every dip and curve of his hard body was flush against the slightly softer curves of her own body, the warmth radiating off him almost feverish as they kissed. His tongue swept over every inch of the inside of her mouth and she met it with equal fervor, coiling her own around his and enticing him into play.

He continued his mini assault on her mouth and both arms coiled around his neck now as he groaned this time. It seemed forever that the kiss continued. Their every nip, suck or lip movement about control, domination and the race to win. But then, as even breathing through their noses seemed to be becoming harder and harder to do, the kiss changed.

It still simmered, nearly scalding in its intensity, but it was more passionate and true than about the need to capture and control. Her muscles seemed to loosen, his hungry kiss making her feel like she was floating or maybe melting into him, and he stroked her tongue with his own in languid, teasing movements that sent spirals of heat, stronger than before shooting through her every nerve ending.

Finally they broke apart, sucking in lungful's of air and the angry, predatory glint in his eyes vanished, morphing into something she'd never thought him capable of before all this. He smirked and leaned forward, brushing his lips over hers with a gentleness that was totally foreign to the two careers and shouldn't be something she enjoyed. But damn did she ever like it now that they had a chance to be something other than just merciless killers.

"We did it. We're going home," he huffed with laughter as a faint rumble began to move rapidly towards them.

She glanced at the broken corpses of Fire Girl and Lover Boy at the other side of the cornucopia clearing and then blinked up at him as he cupped her chin and drew her gaze back to him. He never did like her looking at anyone else when he was talking, even dead people. But she couldn't help it, they'd tried to pretend, to play at what she and Cato had and she wished so badly they were still alive so she could kill them all over again for faking things and almost ruining her and Cato's chances to escape here together.

She could feel that feral desire to hurt and maim building inside of her once again and Cato's hand tightened a little harder before sliding to curve around her hip. Her hands tightened on his firm body and she knew she was probably gripping him harder than was safe to do when it came to Cato. But for once, he didn't do a damn thing about it.

"Clove… They're gone, there's nothing more we can do to them now that they'd feel. They paid for what they did, it's over. Stop it," Cato whispered, kissing her with aching slowness as the thunderous noise from above grew.

He'd never been the level headed, thoughtful one, so it startled her enough to go back to focusing on him. How he managed not to fly into a ferocious rage at the mere thought was beyond her right now.

"We were ready to kill each other because they changed the damn rules on us again," she spat out, shuddering at the mere thought of what they'd almost done.

"I was never ready to kill you. Not in the end," he stated vehemently and she huffed knowing it was the truth. He'd told her to trust him and… Well she had. Those Capitol bastards had backtracked so fast when they moved in to kill each other, Clove thought she still had whiplash.

He shifted against her and her finger nails dug further into his flesh when she felt the arousal swirling through both their systems become something real, pressed tight against her. She dropped her head against his neck, sighing heavily when his arms encircled her completely and he kissed her neck with a sigh.

The rumbling from above reached a crescendo around them and she finally snapped out of the trance she'd been in. They really were going home, back to District 2. Together, the TWO victors of the 74th Hunger Games. It had seemed so unreal that until the moment she felt him harden against her as he kissed her so passionately, she simply hadn't been able to truly take it in.

Her lips curled up into her usual twisted smirk and she nipped at his lower lip once as voices from above told them to get a move on. They could wait one more second as far as she was concerned. Kissing him once more, briefly, she pushed away and laughed. "You'll have to wait till later. I'm done giving people a free show. Come on, let's go home."

She turned, glancing over her shoulder as he groaned breathlessly and her smirk grew wider as he stepped after her, not in the least bit ashamed to be seen as he was, hard and wanting. "You owe me bitch," he hissed, blue eyes flashing darkly and sending a shudder rippling down her spine. There was an almost warmth to that word, one they both knew she loved hearing him call her and she revelled in it.

"Hmmm and you know it'll be worth it," she cackled darkly, grabbing the rungs of the ladder lowered to them and watching the knowledge of what would come spreading over his scarred but still handsome features as he moved beside her and did the same.

Oh she owed him alright. But as they ascended to the hovercraft, cool wind whipping past her flushed body, she smirked over at him knowing that went both ways.

And damn but she couldn't wait to get the hell out of here, to be somewhere, anywhere, alone with him, finally. So they could make up for lost time stuck in that hell hole, with millions of people watching their every move and just be themselves for a while and do whatever the hell they wanted.

And there was no question in either of their minds, she noted, as he winked over at her and she smirked back, just what they both wanted to do the moment they were alone.


End file.
